


Unsuitable

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Dystopia, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Before he was reduced to a number, Álvaro was an ordinary boy. But, unlike his sister, he is infertile. He is sent as a trainee to the Work Training Center, together with ninety-nine others from his unit.At the transport, he meets Raphael, a boy who saves his life. In return, Álvaro offers him alliance, something very rare in the competitive atmosphere among the trainees, and the only thing he still has to offer.Upon arriving at the Work Training Center, Álvaro and Raphael soon find out that there is a system in getting the jobs, or, in being sold. The more credits they earn, the higher will be their price, and the better the job they will get. They are determined to survive, and start playing a game with their owners. But who is really playing the game? And is the best job really a way to salvation?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kkslover9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkslover9/gifts).



> Firstly, what I thought would be a short fic has become an incredibly complicated thing and I could go on, but I ran out of time.
> 
> I'm sorry if this isn't what was on your mind. My imagination sometimes works strangely.
> 
> Lastly, I kept to the RM jersey numbers in this fic, so you can easily identify the characters only referred to by numbers.

The kitchen smells of tea and toasts. Coffee is banned, at least in the RM156 complex, same as alcohol, cigarettes, and other drugs. Nobody really knows what coffee, alcohol, cigarettes and other drugs taste like, but everyone has seen them on pictures at school. Together with other things labeled as “harmful for people’s health”. Álvaro has always thought it would be better if they didn’t show them to anyone at all, but for some reason at school, they’ve always liked showing them bad things.

Usually, the kitchen is full of laughter and running around during breakfast, which Álvaro’s mother hates. She also hates when Álvaro’s sister combs her hair at the table or when they speak with their mouth full. Today it’s quiet. Yesterday in the evening announcement they ordered everyone who finished school that year to come to the Health Center. Álvaro falls into that category. He finished school two weeks ago.

The announcement comes every year, it is nothing unusual. Everyone who finishes school has to undergo the medical tests that will determine whether they are the ripe apples or the rotten apples, as Álvaro likes to call it. Ripe apples are the fertile ones. Ripe apples go to the market. They pair them up as best as they can, according to genetics, and then they expect them to produce a lot of little apples. Rotten apples are those that are found wanting. There’s no place for them in the complex. Everyone can be useful to our country, they used to assure them at school. Do not despair if you are not among the suitable ones. There are many places where you can be useful. Álvaro always wanted to laugh. If being a rotten apple was so great, why was everyone so afraid of it?

“What if they say I’m not suitable?” Álvaro asks, half himself, half his parents.

He knows that his parents had this discussion last night. He overheard them when he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, whispering in their bedroom.

“What if he’s not suitable?” his mother whispered urgently.

“Why shouldn’t he be suitable? He’s our child, and we are both completely fine. He’s had the prescribed diet, exercise, and vitamins since he was a baby. He’s as healthy as he can be,” his father tried to calm her down.

“Everyone is,” his mother objected. “And how many passes the tests? Less than a half!”

“Marta was suitable as well.”

Álvaro knows that this wasn’t even a valid argument. His sister has always been the better one, she could always take care of herself. It’s always Álvaro they worry about.

“Don’t worry, they won’t,” his father says and pours himself another glass of milk. Álvaro only drinks tea. He can’t eat because of the blood tests, but he needs to drink a lot.

“We love you,” his mother says then, just before he leaves for the Health Center. “No matter what happens, we love you.”

He feels like something is lodged in his throat and it’s difficult to swallow. “I know,” he whispers.

He wishes he could take comfort in that.

***

The procedure is quick. They take his blood and make a full-body scan, then send him to wait in the adjacent room. There is a plate with sweet biscuits and plastic cups with lemonade on the table. He’s told to eat and drink a bit so that he doesn’t faint.

The door opens again about thirty minutes later and the medic calls him back in. Álvaro sits on the chair, but he feels like it will be quick anyway.

“I am sorry,” the medic says. “You are not suitable.”

Now his world should crumble to pieces. But it doesn’t. Strangely, what he feels is close to relief. Because he’s never been able to accept the image of him being assigned a girl, for example, the annoying blonde with rabbit teeth that used to sit in front of him in class for five years. Then they would copulate every night until they’d bring other annoying rabbit-teethed babies into the world. Sure, he would be rewarded by a comfortable apartment and a nice job somewhere in the office, but he can do without that.

“But the good news is, the other results came out really well,” the medic continues, looking at some papers in which Álvaro recognizes his psychological tests they filled out earlier that year at school. “Your mental health, your physical state... all very well.”

“What does it mean?” Álvaro asks carefully. It sounds like he should be happy about it, so his situation has to be better than someone else’s.

“It means that you can’t enter the genetical program, of course, but you can be useful to our country in other ways.” The medic attempts a reassuring smile. “The Work Training Centre will be the right place for you now.”

It doesn’t take more than a couple seconds. They simply put a plastic band with a number on his wrist and tell him the number of a room he is to go into. Now he is actually not human anymore. He is only a number. Twenty-one.

***

He is waiting in the room they sent him to. They maybe call it a room. He calls it a cage. A cage where he is supposed to wait with the others until they send them to the Work Training Center. There will likely be no farewells with the families. Dozens and dozens of parents will simply have to accept that their children won’t come home anymore.

Finally, the guards come to escort them to the bus which is supposed to take them to the Center. As they are walking down the tunnel that leads to the buses, they meet another group heading to the buses. Most of them are girls, but Álvaro notices one boy walking in the back of the group. He has no plastic band on his wrist. Álvaro wonders if this means that he had received no good news in the Health Center.

The boy catches him staring. Before Álvaro can avert his gaze, something flashes in the other boy’s eyes. Next thing he knows, Álvaro is flat on his back and the boy’s hands are wrapped around his throat.

“If I kill him, will I get his place?” he shouts to nobody in particular because those around them are not likely to give him an answer.

Suddenly, the grip goes slack. A dark-haired boy tears him away from Álvaro, pins him to the ground and holds him firmly. The guards finally push through the crowd that is just staring at the scene in shock, so it occurs to nobody that they should step aside and make some space for them. Two guards grab the boy and drag him away from both of the groups, kicking and crying. The third one stays to save the situation.

“Go back to your place, Five!” he tells Álvaro’s savior.

It’s not even an order. He is aware of this being their fault. Then he hauls Álvaro up.

“All right, Twenty-one?”

Álvaro nods. The guard looks at him for one last time, almost like he really cares about his well-being, and then goes back to his place at the back of the group.

Nobody speaks anymore. They ride all the way to the Work Training Center in silence.

***

The Work Training Center is an immense complex of buildings. Álvaro’s group is ushered into one of them, marked with a big yellow D.

At the entrance, they change his plastic band for a metal one. He guesses it’s made of surgical steel. That one doesn’t go rusty, so there’s no chance for him to get rid of it until the end of his life. The woman behind the machine explains the meaning of the number until the bar code to him. “Twenty-one is your personal number. D is the building, five is the sector and twenty-six ninety-two is...”

“My year of birth,” he finishes.

“Remember mainly the sector and the building,” she says and hands him a bag.

“I don’t suppose I’d get lost in here,” he makes a face. “I bet you won’t let me go that far.”

He doesn’t have to look for the building because he is already inside. Colorful stripes on the floor and on the walls lead him to his sector.

He finds himself in a huge hall filled with nothing but beds. He finds his bed easily – it’s the twenty-first bed in the row, counting from the door.

The dormitory is not full yet, there are about thirty of the hundred intended occupants. Álvaro guesses that it will take a while for them to get there if the woman behind the machine explains to each of them what the letters and numbers on their bracelets mean.

He throws his bag on the bed and sits down next to it. In the bag, he finds a pair of trainers, two pairs of sweatpants, two white t-shirts, a light blue sweatshirt with his number on the back and on the sleeve. But nobody told him to get changed, so he doesn’t do it. Instead, he looks around. There is artificial light in the room, but not for the lack of windows. The windows are well there, only they have white blinds on them, and the blinds are down.

When the rest of their group arrives, a guard appears by the door. It is the guard who asked him if he was all right in the morning. Álvaro doesn’t know why, but suddenly his presence feels calming.

“You are here to find the purpose of your existence,” he starts and it sounds exactly like all those documentaries they played at school for them – big sentences about the greatness of their country, the dark years and the new era. “The Work Training Center was founded to provide each citizen who is not suitable for the genetic program their rightful place within the society. From tomorrow, we will start with testing your skills and you will then work on develop them. That will help you find a job suitable for you.”

Although the words are positive, the way the guard recites all this is somehow detached and blunt, and it feels unsettling.

“Lights go out at nine thirty,” he tells them then in a more matter-of-fact voice. “At nine, everyone will be at their places. The wake-up signal is at six thirty. You have thirty minutes for the morning hygiene. At seven, you will be in the canteen for breakfast.”

Breakfast. At least one positive thing. Twenty-two, a dark-haired boy with cheeky eyes whose bed is next to Álvaro’s, apparently thinks the same, because he smiles at him. It’s strange how easy it is for all of the strangers to interact while yesterday, they wouldn’t even greet each other on the corridors.

“You better get some rest,” the guard says. “Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

The lights go out, but it’s not completely dark in the room. There is some kind of standby lighting on the ceiling. Álvaro lays on his back and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t feel sleepy at all. The room is quiet. Nobody dares to even whisper. Álvaro feels like saying something so loudly that everyone could hear, but instead, he just stares at the red digits of the clock above the door.

The door first opens after two hours. The guard - still the same one -walks down the aisle between the beds and then back. Álvaro doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s asleep. He is quite sure that they can’t order him to sleep. When the guard is passing by his bed, their eyes meet for a moment, but that’s it.

When the door closes behind him, Álvaro waits for ten minutes. Then he gets up and steps out into the aisle, barefoot. In the dim light, he can’t see the boards with numbers, but he counts the beds. When he finds the right one, he steps on the side and crouches down next to it.

“Hey, Five!” he whispers. “Are you sleeping?”

There’s silence for two seconds.

“No,” Five whispers then, turning to the side slowly.

“Thanks for the morning,” Álvaro says.

“You’re welcome, Twenty-one.”

Álvaro doesn’t know what else to say, so he backs up and returns to his bed. The two of them apparently aren’t the only ones who are not asleep yet, because Twenty-two is quietly watching him from his left, and on the opposite side of the room, Thirty-five is leaning against the headboard.

He knows that he should be thinking about what awaits him here, or about his family, but he can’t. If he gives in, it will break him. He throws the blanket over his head and tries to focus only on his breathing.

He falls asleep about two minutes later.

***

A terrible sound of sirens, which they probably call wake-up signal here, wakes him up. He walks towards the bathroom sleepily. If they have thirty minutes, then it’s three minutes for each of them, because more than ten won’t fit in there. Álvaro waits three minutes for the first ten to get out of there. Then he pushes Nine, a boy who apparently cares a lot about his appearance, away from the sink, and then splashes cold water in his face and cleans his teeth. On his way back, he passes Five, but they don’t speak a word.

The canteen is full of the usual sounds – clinking of dishes, screeching of chairs and low voices. A grumpy woman is standing behind the counter. “Hand!” she barks at Álvaro.

He extends his right hand and she passes a reader over the bar code on his bracelet. He sees no sense in it as they all have the same thing on their plates, but it is either a regulation, or they simply check that everyone came to breakfast like that.

The tables are for twenty people, so Álvaro takes his place between Twenty and Twenty-two. The last table belongs to the guards. The guard from the previous day is sipping coffee from his table. There is a full jar of it on the table. Álvaro recognizes coffee from the smell of it. Once they let them smell a sample at school. Suddenly he realizes what it means. The guards have coffee and cigarettes. They are like the rest of them. Rotten apples. There’s nothing that could harm them anymore.

There is no coffee in Álvaro’s cup, only tea that tastes like nothing. He notices the guard glancing at him from time to time. He knows why. He doesn’t sleep at night, so he wants to know if he also refuses to eat. He surely doesn’t. And even if he didn’t feel like eating, he would force himself, because he doesn’t need the guards to notice him that much.

Nobody is speaking, only the clinking of cups and utensils can be heard in the room. Álvaro feels like doing something that would break the illusion of peace. Like throwing a plate at someone. For example, that woman who put the metal bracelet on his wrist. He realizes that he is reaching for his plate only when Twenty-two grabs his wrist. He is apparently on the same frequency as Álvaro because he could guess what was on Álvaro’s mind.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Álvaro pulls his hand back and lowers his eyes. Then he looks over to the other table. Five is looking at his food like nothing else exists in the world. Then he picks up his cup and their eyes meet. But nothing more. No nod, no wink, nothing. Like they don’t know each other at all. It’s all right. They don’t.

***

“This place was created to find out what’s in you,” a tall guard with long, curly hair explains to them. Unlike the guard from yesterday, there is something rough about him. Álvaro feels like he wouldn’t want to get into a fight with him.

They are standing in the middle of what looks like a sports center. Álvaro has no idea what it’s all about, but he at least still cares. Some of those around him don’t seem to be listening at all. It’s like they gave up on everything the moment the medics in the Health Center told them that life would never be the same for them.

“Your physical condition is one of the criteria your future employers care about,” the guard continues. “All serious health issues were already ruled out, but now it’s about how fit you are. We will do a series of tests. A piece of advice from me if you care about it, give it your best.”

It doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on most of those from Álvaro’s group. Even when they end up running on the oval, it doesn’t look that much like a race. Some merely jog and the others seem to be contemplating whether it wouldn’t be easier to just lie face down on the floor and die.

But Álvaro does follow the guard’s advice, if merely out of curiosity. He wants to see what they think is his place in the society. He wants to see how much it will differ from his own perception of himself.  
He is in the fastest group – from those he already remembers, he can see Five, Seven and Twenty-Two, and also Three, a quite competitive guy who had started the day by stealing another boy’s breakfast. But it seems like he is not the only one who is competitive here.

For a while, Álvaro is right next to Five. Five glances at him and then pushes him in a way that almost makes Álvaro lose his balance. For a fraction of a second, he is shocked. Then he starts thinking at his usual speed, which means five thoughts per second. Either the boy is completely mad, or he thinks that there’s something at stake. If there is really something, Álvaro needs to know, what it is. And if it can be useful to him, he wants it. He increases his speed again. He crosses the line right after Five.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asks breathily.

Five doesn’t answer.

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know yet,” Five shrugs. “But it’s surely about something.”

“Right,” Álvaro snorts.

He keeps his distance from Five for the rest of the day but never lets him out of his sight. He doesn’t yet know whether he should try to avoid him or befriend him, but he knows now that Five is not to be underestimated.

***

When they come back to their dormitory in the evening, they notice immediately that something's changed. The boards above the door that had been switched off until now are lit. There are their numbers and next to them, small squares of different colors. The squares in the upper half of the board are white, the lower half is blue. At the very right, there are numbers from one to ten. They are chronological, it’s a ranking. Álvaro finds his number in the third place, right under Seven and Five.

The other thing that he notices are white jackets on some of the beds. There is one on his, and also on Twenty-two’s. But no jacket on Twenty’s.

He is too tired to think about what it means and whether it actually means anything, so he just follows the others to the bathrooms. Some are whispering their theories to each other, but while Álvaro would like to hear Five’s theory, he’s nowhere to be seen.

When the lights go out, the board stays lit like an omen, a reminder that someone is deciding about their lives right now. All his life, Álvaro found that reassuring, it took a lot of responsibilities from him and he was promised to have the life he deserved. Now, it feels terrifying.

“Hey!” the boy next to him whispers.

Álvaro turns to him.

“What’s your name?” the boy whispers.

“Álvaro,” Álvaro whispers back, and it feels strangely satisfying to say his name again. Suddenly it’s something forbidden, something secret and valuable. “What’s yours?”

“Isco,” the other boy says with the same reverence.

Álvaro smiles at him. It feels good, like they’ve finally done something to defy the system, even if it was just going back from numbers to names. It makes it easier to sleep at night.

***

More changes await them in the dining room in the morning. The woman scanning their bracelets now actually looks at the screen of the machine before she gives them their breakfast. The ones with white jackets get a somewhat upgraded version – there are marmalade and fruit, instead of the toast with butter the blue ones have.

“So?” Five asks him while they are walking to their tables. “Do you believe me now that it’s about something?”

Álvaro rolls his eyes. “Sure. About having marmalade for breakfast.”

He sits down next to Isco and watches Three trying to steal some of his neighbor’s food until Twelve picks up his fork to stab him in the hand.

The guards are sitting at their table, as usual, merely talking to each other. Then, when the breakfast is about to finish, one of them gets up.

“Today, there will be no testing,” he says. “In the morning, there will be a series of instructional videos. In the afternoon, the first group will go to their newly assigned places.”

A murmur rises in the dining room, ranging from bored to worried. Álvaro glances towards Five’s table. Five looks at him and raises his brows. It is strangely unsettling like he knows something the others don’t, and whatever it is, Álvaro doesn’t like it a single bit.

***

They go back to the dormitory after lunch. It seems that almost everyone has started to consider sleeping the best way to spend time, as in their sleep they actually don’t have to think about their future. And in the quiet room, Álvaro feels like maybe it isn’t a bad idea.

A noise rouses him from his drowse. It’s coming from the outside and it sounds like a helicopter. Álvaro raises his head, but he is only one of the few. The others are so numb that they either don’t move at all, or they just cover their ears.

Five jumps up, runs down the aisle and then jumps onto Isco’s bed. “Move!” he barks at him and presses himself against the window.

The window behind Isco’s bed is a bit cranky and there is a gap about half an inch wide between the frame and the blinds. Five watches intently until the helicopter takes off again.

“I was right,” Five mumbles.

“About what?” Álvaro asks.

“About the system. About those who were just taken away in that helicopter.”

“So what? They took them to their work place,” Álvaro shrugs.

“Listen to me, Twenty-one!” Five says and leans closer to him. “Everyone they chose was blue. They had the lowest credit.”

“And?”

“Do you know where the helicopter came from?”

“No.”

“PharmaMed. Does it tell you something?”

“They test new medicaments, don’t they?”

Five nods. “Obviously not on rats.”

Álvaro stares at him incredulously. There is something triumphant in Five’s eyes.

“So, if you still think that there’s nothing at stake, go on. Ignore it and keep losing credits. But if you want to dig in some radioactive waste somewhere, I don’t. Take care.”

He walks off and plops down on his bed casually, while Álvaro still gapes at him with his eyes wide open.

***

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to him until the evening when they bump into each other in the corridor leading to the bathrooms.

“Hey!” Álvaro calls when Five is about to pass him by, pretending he doesn’t even see him.

“What?” The tone is nowhere near friendly, but he at least stops.

“I believe you.”

“Fine.”

“So... What’s the plan?” Álvaro asks.

Finally, Five relents a little bit. He looks around to make sure that they are alone and then leans over the wall. “The plan is simple. Be the best. And if we want to go up and stay there, we need to get the credits now, while the others are still numb and they don’t realize what it’s about.”

“If we want,” Álvaro repeats. “So we’re in it together?”

“If you want to.”

“Yes,” Álvaro says and shakes his hand. “No tricks from now on. Not between us two.”

Five nods.

“So... what am I supposed to do?” Álvaro asks. Five obviously knows more than he does, and he has at least some kind of plan, so he can let him lead for now.

“Mainly listen. Whatever the guards or cooks or whoever says, even if you think it completely stupid and irrelevant. And then... don’t lose credits.”

“That will be hard,” Álvaro sighs.

“Why?”

“Because I constantly feel like punching someone in the face.”

Five laughs. It’s the first time he shows some emotions, and Álvaro notices how beautiful he is in his laughter. Maybe it’s because, for the first time, he thinks of him as of a friend and not a contender.

“Why do I get the feeling that you had a plan before you even got in this place?” Álvaro asks.

“Because I did,” Five shrugs. “Nothing in particular, of course, because I didn’t know what it looked like. But I’ve always known I wouldn’t be suitable for the genetical program.”

“How could you have known that?”

Five lifts his eyes and looks at Álvaro, and suddenly he looks more vulnerable than Álvaro’s ever seen him. “I like boys,” he says with something akin to defiance.

“Oh,” is all Álvaro manages to say.

“So obviously, in the tests, they found out. I bet they didn’t even look at the other results that much. They could set me up with a girl, I guess, but it would be much unnecessary trouble. Better get rid of me, right?” Five laughs humorlessly.

“I understand,” Álvaro says, although he isn’t quite sure that he does. He’s never really thought about whether he liked girls or boys because it didn’t matter. They would tell him who to like one day, or so he thought, so he never needed to decide for himself. It was easier not to have a preference.

“At least here, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Five muses and then disappears in the bathrooms.

***

“Today, you’ll be working at a belt conveyor,” the long-haired guard announces after breakfast. “You need to be quick and focused. Many of your future employers could be big companies that need...”

 _Probably, people that can work twenty-four seven until they die out of exhaustion_ , Álvaro thinks. _If what Five says is true._

“The next batch will be twenty people,” Five whispers in his ear on their way to the training hall. “We need to stay above that line, at all costs.”

“How do you know?” Álvaro frowns.

“I listen carefully,” Five smirks. “I overheard Casillas at the breakfast.”

“Who is Casillas?”

“That guard over there,” Five says incredulously like he can’t believe that Álvaro doesn’t know all of the guards by name. Álvaro doesn’t even try to ask how Five found out.

“All right,” Álvaro says. “But, how do we even know what the job they want to give the last twenty will be that bad?”

“It will surely be worse than a conveyor belt,” Five says. “And that says a lot.”

***

Working at the belt isn’t that difficult, or at least Álvaro thinks so. But when he allows himself the moment of distraction, he sees that the score above Five’s place is much lower than his, and Isco next to him is struggling even more.

“Last batch,” a voice announces through the speakers above their heads.

Last chance, is what Álvaro hears.

Another box is coming in his direction. He knows that if he picks it up, he will not only have a much better score than Five, which would complicate their plan but also that Isco will inevitably end up in the last twenty. And for some reason, he doesn’t want that to happen.

He lets it pass until it reaches Isco. Isco glances up at him. Álvaro smiles and winks.

Everything is the way it‘s supposed to be.

***

“Thanks,” Isco says when they are cleaning their teeth next to each other.

“For what?” Álvaro asks and spits the toothpaste in the basin.

“You know, for...”

Álvaro stops the water, looks around and leans closer to him. “Forget that I did it, okay?” he whispers. “We are not supposed to help each other, and I don’t want the others to notice me too much.”

Isco leans over the basin. They’ve been here for quite a while, so it’s not unusual for some of them to talk. “What is it between you and Five?” he asks.

“There’s nothing between us!” Álvaro snaps.

“I’m not a snitch!” Isco retorts and puffs his cheeks. He looks kind of funny and Álvaro smiles despite the situation.

“I know,” he says. “But really, it’s nothing.”

“I’m sure it is something. You have some kind of system with the credits.”

“No system. We want to have as many as possible, that’s all.”

“But you are not going against each other.”

“No.”

There is a moment of awkward silence. Álvaro wishes he could tell Isco everything that he knows, but he doesn’t have Five’s permission. And he doesn’t think that he’d ever obtain it.

“All I can tell you is... try to stay as high on the board as you can,” he says finally.

They get back to the dormitory right on time. The guard walks down the aisle and then switches off the lights.

Isco looks at him. Then he extends his hand to him. Álvaro takes it and entwines their fingers. Touching something warm and alive feels comforting.

He falls asleep almost immediately.

***

The sirens wake him up. He realizes that he is still holding Isco’s hand. It startles him a bit. Unless the night guard is blind, he had to see. Álvaro pulls his hand back quickly because he definitely doesn’t need more people to notice.

Only then he realizes that Five has been looking at him for quite a while, standing a few meters away in the aisle between the beds. The moment Álvaro looks at him, Five lowers his head and walks past Álvaro’s bed quickly.

***

There is so little of them these days that there is only one table in the dining room. Nobody ever speaks about those who aren’t with them anymore. And if someone noticed the way of being assigned to jobs, they don’t speak about it either.

“Today’s tests will be a memory and combination ones,” Casillas announces after breakfast.

Álvaro’s mind is still elsewhere, so he doesn’t think that he will be able to concentrate on anything. He would prefer another series of physical tests – he desperately needs to punch something because he can’t really punch himself.

Five ignores him on their way to the test rooms. On one side, Álvaro doesn’t really understand why he should be mad – they are allies, but that’s it, there’s nothing between them, and nothing between him and Isco either. But then, he also knows that he is the only person that Five has confided in here, and maybe he has all rights to feel betrayed.

And Álvaro’s conscience is inclined to think that he really did betray him in a way.

***

When they get back to the dormitory, all Álvaro wants to do is sleep, but although tired, he is really content. He did well at the tests, or at least so he thinks. When the board lights up, he finds his name above Five’s, but the distance between them isn’t big.

Five, though, doesn’t look happy at all.

"Twenty-one?" he whispers and pulls Álvaro aside.

"What?" Álvaro smiles, happy that at least Five is talking to him again.

"Something's wrong."

Álvaro looks at him and raises his brows, the smile still not leaving his face."What do you mean? It's perfect!"

"No, listen to me. I messed up!"

"Apparently not."

"How many mistakes did you make?" he asks.

"Three," Álvaro says and frowns. “Why?”

"I made fifteen."

Álvaro gasps. "But... why would they..."

"If it's like I think it is, the best job isn't as good as we thought," Five says. “And getting me up means that they will finally get rid of me like that.”

"To your places!" a guard’s voice sounds from the door and they almost jump up.

They go to their beds, but as soon as the door is shut, Álvaro runs over to Five’s bed. "Why would they want to get rid of you?" he whispers.

"I don't know. Guess they don’t like the ones that don’t fit and don’t seem to mind it."

"So what are we going to do now?"

Five pauses. "You have to stop trying."

"What?"

"You have to lower your credit."

"No!" Álvaro almost shouts. "I'm not going to do that!"

"You have to! Keep yourself black, or go back to brown. You mustn't go red, do you understand?" Five whispers urgently.

"No. I'm not going to leave you now, okay?"

There is silence for a while. Then Five sighs deeply. “Fine. We’ll do it another way.”

“What way?”

“You need to lower your credit. And so do I. And if they won’t let me fail in the tests, I have to do something so that they won’t have a choice.”

“Like what?” Álvaro asks.

“What else can you lose credits for? Getting into a fight. They won’t let it pass. They can’t,” Five smirks. “So I have a task for you.”

“If you mean I should fight you, I won’t,” Álvaro says resolutely.

Five laughs quietly. “No, I didn’t even think... No, don’t worry, I don’t want you to fight me.”

“Then what?”

“You will call a guard before Three kills me.”

***

Five starts the fight on the way from the bathrooms to the dormitory. He knew who to choose – Three has a short temper, people prefer to avoid him. Álvaro doesn’t hear what Five tells him, but it’s enough for Three to jump on him.

Álvaro doesn’t wait for anything more. He pushes past the onlookers and runs to find the first guard he comes across.

When the guards lead Three and Five out of the dormitory, Five looks at Álvaro and winks.

***

Falling asleep is impossible. It could be an hour or two since the guards left with Three and Five. Álvaro is staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the murmur around him.

Suddenly, the door flies open.

“Twenty-one!” Casillas’ voice sounds from the doorstep.

Álvaro sits up.

“Get dressed, I’ll be waiting for you outside in three minutes.”

Isco gives him a startled look. The last time the guards waited for someone outside, the person in question almost didn’t manage to crawl back to his bed. But Álvaro is not afraid. If they figured out his and Five’s plan, they’re in it together. He doesn’t care what they will do to them if they’re in it together.

He gets dressed slowly. If he has three minutes, he will open them in the fifty-ninth minute of the third.

When he walks out, Casillas is indeed waiting outside. He beckons him and leads him to one of the offices the guards have to themselves.

“Sit down,” he says and closes the door.

Álvaro sits on the chair next to the plain table standing in the middle of the room. Casillas sits on the other one.

“So you figured out how the system works,” Casillas states. “And now you are trying to play by your own rules.”

“And you don’t do that?” Álvaro retorts. “Why are you trying to kill Five?”

“Kill him?” Casillas frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Even if he doesn’t do well, you give him credits anyway. To get him to the top. And then get rid of him.”

“I don’t know who told you that, but you are wrong. On the contrary. I’m trying to get him to the top to save him.”

Álvaro frowns. “Why would you do that?”

Casillas leans in his chair. “Well, if we are playing on honesty...” he says and folds his arms. “Your friend’s father is quite an important man. He’s a part of the RM156 committee. And the only thing he can still do for his son is to try to keep him alive. And he is willing to spend quite a bit on it.”

“So you are supposed to give him the best job, no matter how well he does,” Álvaro states. “And no matter whether he wants it or not.”

“Correct. But I didn’t think that you would want this job, either.”

Álvaro looks at him. “Will it keep me alive?”

Casillas smirks. “As far as I know, I’m still alive.”

It feels like a slap in the face. So this is what they will get if they win over the system. An opportunity to rule it.

“I have my orders to get him to the top,” Casillas says. “Who the other one will be, I don’t care. You can have your deals or whatever. On one condition. Nobody else will hear about it. What you know about the system, you keep to yourself. Understood?”

Álvaro nods. Then he lifts his eyes again. “You said, who the other one will be. Does that mean that there are only two places?”

“Yes. This year, only two. Two guards will be leaving at the end of the year. So two of you need to stay.”

Álvaro nods in silence. No matter what he does, he will betray either Isco or Five.

“You now know what is the price. If you want the job, go ahead. If you don’t, you can back up,” Casillas says. “And now, hold onto the table.”

Álvaro grabs the desk and closes his eyes. The blow is not even that strong, although he still gets to taste copper in his mouth. When he opens his eyes again, Casillas is already sitting in his chair.

“The nurse got an order to send Three back and leave Five in the sickbay. You’ll have plenty of time to explain everything to each other,” he says. “Go. I’ll send the nurse a message.”

***

The sickbay is empty, except for one bed. When Álvaro walks in, Five sits up and looks at him. “What are you doing here?” he whispers.

“Casillas sent me here,” Álvaro smiles.

“He knows,” Five says.

“Yes, but it’s not what you think,” Álvaro says. “They are not trying to kill you. They are trying to save your life.”

Five laughs. “What? Why would they do that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me your father was a part of the RM156 committee?”

Five frowns and then looks at Álvaro. “You mean that...”

“Casillas says he’s paid them. They want to give you the best job to keep you alive.”

Five nods slowly. “You know what it is, right?” he says then. “The best job.”

“Yes,” Álvaro sighs. “We get to be guards in this complex.”

Five takes a sharp breath. “You could ever do that?” he asks. “To send people to death and lie in their faces about it?”

Álvaro shrugs. “I thought that I couldn’t, but...”

“But?”

“But when Casillas told me that I had a choice, that I could play on and get the job, or just back up, I realized that I wanted to live. And I didn’t want to leave you.”

Five smiles somewhat sadly and then touches Álvaro’s face. Álvaro holds his breath and inches closer. Five’s eyes are now all that he can see and for the first time since he’s come to this place, he feels alive.

“What if the nurse comes?” he whispers just before their lips can touch.

Five cradles the back of his neck like he is afraid of Álvaro backing away. “She never comes.”

When Five kisses him, Álvaro’s broken lip that has just stopped bleeding opens again. It hurts so much that it brings tears to his eyes, but he doesn’t want to stop. He climbs onto the bed because suddenly he needs to feel the human contact and holding hands isn’t enough anymore.

“What is your name, actually?” Five asks.

“Álvaro. What’s yours?”

“Raphael.”

Álvaro smiles and reaches up to his face. “You still look quite pretty, even after Three ran you over,” he says.

“You don’t look bad either, considering,” Raphael smirks and wipes a drop of blood off Álvaro’s lip.

Álvaro lays his head on Raphael’s chest. The sickbay is completely quiet and for a while, all he can hear is their breathing.

“You asked me if I could do it,” he says then. “To stay here as a guard. But... could you?”

“For some time,” Raphael says.

Álvaro frowns and lifts his head to look at him. “For some time? What does it mean, for some time?”

“Until I find a way out of here. As a guard, I suppose it can’t be that difficult to leave the complex. And then... there are plenty of places I could go. Abandoned cities...”

Álvaro gasps. “You can’t go outside! There’s radiation...”

“The radioactive zones are habitable after three hundred years,” Raphael smirks.

“Nine hundred years.”

“If they are not cleared. What do you think those who weren’t as lucky as we two have been doing all the time?”

“But you don’t know for sure,” Álvaro breathes out. “Radiation is perfidious. You can’t see it, hear it, feel it...”

“Álvaro,” Raphael whispers and looks in his eyes. “Even if I’m wrong, it’s not such a big difference. We are already dead anyway. Staying alive here or dying out there, there’s no difference.”

“Right,” Álvaro nods. “All right, then. It’s your plan. I’ll follow you.”

“You always follow me, no matter how mad my plans are,” Raphael laughs. “Why?”

“Because I trust you,” Álvaro says and lays his head back on his chest. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always trusted you. Since you saved me for the first time. And I don’t really mind where I’ll go anymore, as long as I can go there with you.”

They lie there for a while in silence.

“Who would have thought,” Raphael says then. “That being unsuitable and ending up here would be the best thing that could have happened to me.”

“Considering,” Álvaro mumbles sleepily.

“No,” Raphael says. “Not considering.”


End file.
